


Rigged from the Start

by Quingy



Series: Ellyntia Lavellan and Selena Hawke [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comedy, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Love, Manipulation, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 07:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3520541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quingy/pseuds/Quingy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fade, Hawke stays with the Inquisition and Varric. The two are inseparable, but Cole knows they should be more than friends. He approaches Inquisitor Lavellan and asks for her help. A plan is concocted, and it involves all the members of the Inquisition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rigged from the Start

**Author's Note:**

> This is, most likely, complete fluff. But I adore Varric/Hawke. Enjoy!

 

            Inquisitor Lavellan walked into the Harold’s rest that evening to meet Sera for a drink but stopped short when she nearly ran into Cole, hovering anxiously in the doorway. It seemed no one else was aware of her spirit friend, back in his true form he was harder to spot than ever.

            His blue eyes went round beneath his hat at the sight of the Inquisitor. “I need your help,” he told her. She truly had not seen him so worked up since he had regained his spirit form.

            “What’s the matter?” she asked. A cursory inspection of the tavern showed the usual inhabitants, The Chargers were drinking raucously with Bull, Sera was among them, waiting for the Inquisitor whose arrival had not been noticed by the girl who was too busy standing on a table. Varric was there as well, with Hawke. The two of them were drinking and laughing together at the bar as they had been ever since Hawke had decided to stay after her experiences in the Fade. The two were inseparable most days, and Varric seemed far happier for her presence.

            When Lavellan looked back at Cole he was nodding and pointing in their direction. “They won’t listen to my help,” he said. “I’ve been whispering to them for days and they ignore me!” Cole was distraught.

            Lavellan could not help her curiosity. “What have you been whispering to them?”

            Cole’s tone dropped and he was almost chanting, low and hypnotic, “ _Bianca doesn’t make you happy, she makes you sad, you think of regret, of pain. Hawke makes you think of home, of family, of friends, of the future, of love. She doesn’t blame you for what happened to Kirkwall.”_

There was a brief pause and it seemed now he was speaking to Hawke’s pain. _“Anders_ wanted _you to kill him for what he did. It wasn’t your fault. You loved him, but not the way he loved you. Varric doesn’t blame you for what happened. You are allowed to be happy. You don’t have to find a way to sacrifice yourself to make up for things. Stroud would want you to live.”_

            Cole stopped talking, and Lavellan was silent for a moment. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to tell them, either,” she said eventually. “Have you just been whispering that to them all at once? That’s a lot.”

            “Sometimes, while they sleep,” he admitted in his softer, normal voice. “Or in little bits when they’re together. They _should_ be together. They make each other happy, but they’ve been friends too long and they’re afraid of change. Afraid of loss. They’ve lost so much together already.”

            “So you’ve been stalking Varric and Hawke for days, trying to convince them they should be together?” Lavellan laughed. “Oh, you should have told Cassandra. She would love this.”

            “Cassandra said that Varric has to make a romantic declaration,” Cole told her. “Is that right? Should I add that to what I whisper? Should he declare his love in front of everyone in Skyhold?”

            Lavellan bit her lip to keep from laughing at the image of Varric proposing to the Champion of Kirkwall in the courtyard, and the reaction that would get from her soldiers. “Cole, it’s like you said, I think they’re too stubborn for your whispers to work on them. If we want to help them, we’re going to have to get a little more creative.”

 

* * *

 

 

            “Oh! I’d love to help!” Josephine cried. “What should I wear? Or does it matter? Would dressing up too much give it away? Should I dress normally? Would that give it away? What if—“

            “Josie,” Lavellan cut her off. “Dress however you like.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Sera had to stop laughing before she could answer. “Varric? So…” Then she started laughing all over again.

            “Are you in or not?”

            “You’re kidding, right? Think I’d miss this fun? As if.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Bull agreed easily. “Sure, Boss, whatever you need.”

            “Not doing it for Varric, then?”

            Bull considered her with his one eye. “Sure, him too, if it works. If it doesn’t, then I did it for you.”

            “You don’t think it’ll work?” Lavellan wondered.

            He shrugged his massive shoulders. “At least we can all get drunk and have a good time, either way.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Blackwall had a few questions. “This is to set up Varric and The Champion of Kirkwall, because Cole says we should?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you’re getting the whole Inquisition involved?”

            “Not…not everyone?”

            “Not Solas, you mean?”

            Lavellan nodded.

            Blackwall sighed. “I follow your lead, Inquisitor.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Cassandra was on board before Lavellan even asked.  “I’ve heard about your plan, Inquisitor,” she said. “It is not what I suggested to Cole, but I hope that it works.”

            “Thank you, Cassandra.”

 

* * *

 

 

            On her way to visit Cullen, Solas stopped Lavellan to talk. “Ma vhenan,” he called.

            Lavellan froze. “Um…yes?”

            “I’ve heard…disturbing rumours.”

            “I hope you’ve heard that I’m helping Cole,” she began, “I mean, Varric too, but really, it’s all an effort of compassion. I know that it’s ridiculous, but—“

            Solas cut her off with a kiss. “I hope that it works,” he whispered against her lips. “Good luck.”

            Smiling and blushing like a little girl, Lavellan rushed off to Cullen’s.

 

* * *

 

 

            “Varric and The Champion?” Cullen repeated.

            “Yes.”

            “This was Cole’s idea?”

            “Yes.”

            “Why do you need me?”

            “Well if everyone isn’t involved then it might be suspicious.”

            “I heard Solas isn’t coming,” Cullen pointed out, with a knowing look.

            “Solas is a…special case…” Lavellan said, blushing.

            Cullen heaved one of his dramatic sighs. “If I must, Inquisitor.”

            “Thank you, Commander,” she said, matching his formality with only light teasing.

 

* * *

 

           

            Dorian, like Sera, laughed at her after she explained. “Oh, I do love your ridiculous schemes. Did I say ridiculous? I meant idiotic.”

            “Dorian,” Lavellan half-laughed, half-sighed. “We both know you’re doing it.”

            “Of course I’m doing it. Everyone is. We all love watching you make a fool of yourself. You’re the Inquisitor. One day you’ll be a legend and we’ll get to say, ‘Yes but did you hear about that time she tried to play match-maker? She really should have stuck to closing rifts.’”

            “What if it works?”

            Dorian laughed even harder.

 

* * *

 

 

            “My dear, I do hope you’re kidding.”

            “Not at all.”

            “That demon told you to do this and you’ve roped half the Inquisition into helping?”

            “He’s not a demon, Vivienne….”

          “Ah, yes, because you and your Solas are so fond of your pet. Either way, why should I get involved in this?”

            “Don’t you want Varric to be happy?”

            “Of course, darling, I’m just not convinced that’s something that you’re going to accomplish. Especially not through trickery. You forget I’m a master of The Game, happiness is never the result.”

            Lavellan sighed. “So you won’t help?”

            Vivienne studied her, expressionless for a long moment. “I may attend your gathering. I will not contribute to your scheme.”

            _Dorian is right,_ Lavellan thought. _They all just want to watch._

 

* * *

 

 

            “Inquisitor.”

            “Leliana, I need your help with—“

            “I know about what you’re planning with Varric and The Champion,” Leliana interrupted. “Are you sure about this?”

            “Yes. Cole thinks it will help them, and I believe him.”

            “Why do you need me to attend? I’m rather busy.”

            “Honestly, I could tell you what I told Cullen, but at this point I’m pretty sure you’ll come out of curiosity,” Lavellan pointed out. “You want to know if I can pull it off. Everyone does.”

            Leliana smiled at her. “I’ll see you tonight, Inquisitor.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Lavellan found Varric and Hawke together in Skyhold’s garden. “Hello!” she greeted them.

            “Your Inquisitorialness,” Varric greeted her.

            Hawke nodded at her with a respectful smile. She and Varric were seated on one of the central benches together companionably, though Lavellan noticed that their legs were brushing against each other.

“Could I borrow Hawke from you, Varric?” Lavellan asked with her most disarming smile.

Hawke looked surprized, and the Inquisitor thought—a little irritated—but Varric said, “Sure.”

Hawke stood up; the woman was taller than her, with bright blue eyes and short dark hair.            The two of them walked through the gardens and the Inquisitor led them to the stairs up to the battlements. “Is there something you needed, Inquisitor?” Hawke asked politely. They were not close, despite both women being mages and heroes; the Inquisitor got the feeling Hawke was a little resentful that the Inquisitor had let her friend Stroud die.

“You can call me Ellyntia,” the Inquisitor said. “And I was hoping we could talk about…well, about Varric actually.”

That got a reaction from Hawke. “Varric?” she echoed cautiously. “What about him?”

“I was wondering what you knew about Bianca, really. How serious he is about her. I know she came here, and tricked us, and I really…well, I’ve found myself sort of jealous,” Lavellan lied.

Hawke exhaled, but there was a definite spark to her, and as a mage that kind of thing meant she was bordering on really losing control. “Jealous, huh?” she said, forcing a light tone. “Well, Inqui—Ellyntia—I’m sorry but I don’t know how he feels about her. He never talks about her. I had never heard a word about her before she showed up. Just knew the crossbow.”

Lavellan smiled at her. “That’s something, right? Maybe I have a chance. Anyway I wanted to invite the both of you to a game of Wicked Grace tonight. You’ll come, won’t you? Everyone will be there.”

Hawke had the look of someone who really did not want to say yes, but knew they had to. “Yeah, of course. Varric wouldn’t miss a game of cards for anything.”

“Great!” Lavellan hugged Hawke, and the other woman stood there stiffly, likely wanting to hurl the little elf woman off of her and over the battlements. As she ran off, she was sure she heard mumbled cursing.

 

* * *

 

 

           Hawke didn’t know why she didn’t like Inquisitor Lavellan, or Ellyntia as she now apparently had to call her. The elven mage was tough and smart and generally likeable. She was also incredibly beautiful, with long black hair and violet eyes the same colour as her _vallaslin_ , there was something very exotic about her. Despite all the kindness she had shown Hawke, despite having saved Hawke’s life, she just rubbed Hawke the wrong way. And now the elf had a thing for Varric? That would mean her being around _all the time_. Varric and Hawke’s adventures would become Varric and Lavellan’s adventures and Hawke would be the tagalong.

            The thought was unbearable. Hawke stomped back to where she had left Varric and he took one look at her and stood up. “Whoa, there, Hawke. What’d the Inquisitor say to you?”

            “She invited us to a game of Wicked Grace tonight,” Hawke mumbled.  
            “Yes, and you’ve always hated cards,” Varric replied dryly. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” he put a hand on her arm.

            Hawke sighed. “Is the Inquisitor single?” she asked.

            Varric dropped his hand and blinked a few times. “She asked you out? I mean I know the Rivaini and you had a brief thing but Hawke, you and the Inquisitor…”

            “No, she didn’t, Varric. I’m not interested in her,” Hawke laughed.

            Varric relaxed slightly. “Well, no, she isn’t. She’s dating Chuckles—er—the bald, pyjama-wearing elf.”

            “The one who always talks about the Fade?” Hawke asked.  
            “That’s the one.”

            “Really? Him?”

            “I seem to recall a certain Champion who dated a certain possessed mage…” Varric teased.

            “Point taken. Still. Isn’t she out of his league?”

            Varric stared at Hawke. “That’s what I said about you and Blondie, Hawke. That’s what I said about you and Blondie.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Hawke found ‘Chuckles’ an hour or so later, when Varric needed to get some writing done. The bald elf was standing over a small table in a circular room, looking down at some papers. He looked up at her as she entered the room.

            “You are the Champion of Kirkwall, are you not?” he said.

            Hawke nodded. “We travelled through the Fade together,” she said.

            “Yes, I remember. What a fascinating experience,” he breathed. His blue eyes met hers. “The death of the Warden Stroud was a shame.”

            Hawke forced a nod and a smile. “He was a good man,” she agreed.

            “If you don’t mind my asking, I have read all of Varric’s books, including The Tale of the Champion, and I wonder if it is safe to assume that he exaggerated many of the things within? Having travelled with Varric for some time I’ve noticed he enjoys fabrications.”

            “You’re asking about Orsino? He really did turn into a giant monster made of corpses. I swear. Varric tended to exaggerate more about…my personal life.”

            “Oh, no, I believe you about Enchanter Orsino. I have seen creatures like it in my journeys in the Fade. They are called Harvesters and they are made from blood magic and true desperation.”

            Hawke blinked at him. “Oh,” she said. “Are you and the Inquisitor together?” she blurted out.

            His face changed slightly, but she did not know him well enough to read it. “We were,” he said, “but recently she broke up with me. If you’ll excuse me, I think that I would like to continue with my studies.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

            Everyone arrived at the Harold’s rest early, as Inquisitor Lavellan requested, even Vivienne. “Alright, everyone. Solas told me Hawke visited him and he told her we broke up. Things are working out just as we planned.”

            “Darling, this is your plan,” Vivienne said. “We’re just the audience.”

            Cole was hovering just behind Lavellan’s shoulder. “I’ve been following Hawke around today. She’s very upset with you. _Angry, agitated, aggressive,_ she feels alone inside, like you plan to take Varric from her. Her magic is very powerful. I wouldn’t want to fight her.”

            Cullen laughed from his place at the table. “No, you wouldn’t.”

            “She took down The Arishok by herself, boss. Watch yourself,” Iron Bull cautioned, taking a drink from his tankard. “Although…fighting a mage like that…has to be almost like fighting a dragon….”

            “She killed one of those in Kirkwall too,” Cassandra added.

            Bull laughed. “My kind of woman! Why hasn’t Varric bedded her yet?”

            “He’s bloody daft, that’s why,” Sera piped in. “So busy telling stories he never lives any.”

            The door to the tavern opened and everyone shut up. “Varric! Hawke!” Josephine called. “Welcome!” Lavellan smiled at the two of them and was amused at how hostile Hawke’s look was.

            They had intentionally left two chairs empty at one end of the table, and one at the other end. Lavellan saw Hawke notice, and try to reach one, but Lavellan sat down first. “Varric, sit with me?” she asked pleasantly.

            Varric shrugged, shooting a look and smile at Hawke before sitting with the Inquisitor. Everyone was rather quiet as Hawke walked around the table and sat down, but Lavellan noticed Dorian laughing into his drink where he sat with Sera as she whispered something to him. Blackwall was with them too.

            _Why did I let them sit together?_ She thought vaguely.

            Josephine began dealing the cards and chatter began, as Varric asked, “So, Inquisitor, I hear you and Chuckles broke up…”

            Lavellan nodded sadly. “We did, I realized he wasn’t right for me.”

            Varric put a hand on her shoulder, and across the table, Hawke glared daggers, in her agitation she spilled a drink on Leliana who sat beside her.

            “That’s a shame, though Hawke went through that too, back in Kirkwall,” Varric said, after assuring that the disaster surrounding Hawke was not life-threatening and she did not need his assistance.

            “With Anders?” Lavellan asked, collecting the cards that had been dealt to her.

            He nodded. “Yeah, their relationship was always rocky, and Hawke really tried to make it work but in the end he just put his cause before her.” The first round began, and as instructed Lavellan’s companions did their best to distract Hawke with conversation from what was happening with Varric.

            “That’s not what happened with us,” Lavellan argued. “I broke up with Solas because I had feelings for someone else.” Hawke won the first round, and Dorian dramatically complained about his horrid luck. Someone suggested they play for clothing, it sounded like Sera. Cullen, Vivienne, Cassandra and Josephine argued against this but were quickly outvoted. They had not been told about this part of the plan.

            “Someone else, eh?” Varric said. “Well, I hope that works out for you, Inquisitor.”

            The card game turned as everyone started working against Hawke and Varric, and the drinking increased exponentially. Hawke lost her shirt, and Varric his. Dorian took Cullen’s shirt as well, and Sera took Cassandra’s, and they winked conspiratorially. Lavellan lost her shirt eventually, when the group turned against her, and Bull and Sera just threw their pants on the table because why the hell not. Hawke and Varric were the first to be sitting in nothing but their small clothes, and soon Vivienne and Josephine were the only ones still fully clothed.

            “This is rigged!” Hawke shouted. “I have never played this poorly in my life!”

            “Oh, come on, Hawke,” Varric said soothingly. “Remember when the elf and the Rivaini challenged us and took us for all we had? We sat there at the end looking pretty much exactly like this.”

            “But that was Isabela! So that was rigged too!” Hawke argued.

            Varric mumbled under his breath, “It was, but don’t let her know I know.” The Inquisitor laughed.

            “What are you laughing at?” Hawke challenged, standing up. Bull whistled and Hawke glared at him too. “I challenge the Inquisitor to one-on-one!” she shouted, red-faced. Lavellan eyed the many empty mugs in front of Hawke. She herself had only been lightly drinking.

            The room went quiet though. Varric spoke, “You sure, Hawke? I mean, there is a reason I gave her the nickname, ‘Lucky’.”

            Varric doubting her only enraged Hawke more. “Yes!” she shouted. “I’m sure!”

            “What are we playing for?” Lavellan asked.

            There was a beat of silence before Hawke answered. “Varric,” she said.

            There was an eruption of noise. Dorian’s voice Lavellan heard the loudest: “YOU’RE JOKING!”

            Sera just fell under the table she was laughing so hard, while Cassandra and Josephine were so enthused with this romantic turn of events they had stood up and were cheering. Cullen and Blackwall were shaking their heads and drinking more, Bull was pounding the table and shouting, “ATASHI!”

            Cole and Vivienne were watching Varric. Varric was staring at Hawke, and she at him. “You’re playing for me, huh?” he said, and everyone else shut up. Sera stayed under the table.

            Hawke swallowed, hard. “Um…yes,” she said. “Is that…is that a problem?”

            “With the way you’ve been playing tonight, it might be,” he said with a slowly spreading grin. “If you play for me, you sure as hell better win, Hawke.”

            She grinned at him and Lavellan thought it was the most beautiful expression she had ever seen on the other woman’s face.

            Cole appeared behind Lavellan and whispered excitedly, “You did it!”

            “Not yet,” she whispered back. “Now she has to win.”

* * *

 

 

            Lavellan could not help but smile when they got to the final hand. They were neck in neck, Hawke really was a champion of Wicked Grace, but Varric was right. There was reason he called her Lucky. She was staring at a hand of cards that could not lose. She had never been in a room with her companions and had them so quiet. The only noise came from Sera softly snoring under the table. Varric tightly gripped the table where he sat beside her, and she had to wonder what he would do if Hawke lost. Honour the fact that it was a card game? Pretend this hadn’t changed the way they looked at each other?

           Lavellan didn’t really want to risk it. “I fold,” she said. There were soft groans from a few of her companions, and some smiles from others. Hawke jumped up, throwing down her cards. It had slipped her mind that she wore only her small clothes, or perhaps she did not care.

            “I won?” she asked.

            “You won,” Lavellan agreed.

            Hawke looked at Varric. Varric looked at Hawke. Everyone else realized suddenly that they were probably in danger by being between the two, and there was a massive scraping of chairs as everyone hurried to leave. Lavellan stayed where she was, and Cole appeared again just behind her.

            The two of them watched as Varric approached Hawke, slowly, and took her hand. “Actually,” he said, “I have to tell you something.”

            Hawke went pale.

            “The game was rigged, beautiful. And I have to say, I’m the one who won.”

            She threw herself at him and his sturdy weight caught her easily. Lavellan only watched them kiss for a moment before she followed the others out of the tavern. She found Solas waiting outside.

            “I heard your plan succeeded,” he said, nodding at Cole.

            “It did,” Lavellan smiled.

            He kissed her, and she could feel him smiling against her lips. “What?” she asked, drawing back.

            He had a very slight smirk. “Dorian and I had a bet on the outcome. He must be very disappointed right now.”

            Lavellan laughed. “Serves him right for betting against love.”

            “I saw it as betting against you.”

            “Haven’t you heard? It was all rigged from the start.”

           

           

           

**Author's Note:**

> I took some liberties with canon as far as Hawke is concerned, she would rather stay with Varric than run off to Weisshaupt for whatever reason they decided she needed to do that. I will ship Varric/Hawke forever and would have loved for them to have more time together in Inquisition. Throwing in some shenanigans with the whole Inquisition and references to Kirkwall just adds to the fun.
> 
> PS: This is about the same Inquisitor as my other story, Lavellan's Sorrow, which I wrote first but this takes place before.
> 
> New sequel: 'Wedding Bells and Other Headaches', check it out!


End file.
